


all at once (everything is different)

by lovecamedown



Series: all at once (everything is different) 'verse [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, mentions of injury/blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 19:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovecamedown/pseuds/lovecamedown
Summary: she's just minding her own business; just your typical eight year old, stranded and left abandoned by a family she can't remember on a planet that's 99% sand. everything is going smoothly and predictably, like clockwork, until a boy  - a very scared, very lost, and very thirsty boy - quite literally stumbles in to her life.//or the one where rey and finn grow up together on jakku, afraid and lost, but at least they're never alone.





	all at once (everything is different)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so the title is from "i see the light" from Tangled because wow??? what a song? ?  
> also i have no idea why finn turns up on the planet, at first i thought it could be because he's run away from the first order at a much younger age than canon, but then like...i didn't mention the FO in the rest of the fic. maybe he was kidnapped by someone and he escaped? I guess I decided to leave that up to you!  
> enjoy! : )

The first time Rey sees him doesn’t exactly go smoothly.

She’s just minding her own business, pottering around in her AT-AT that she now calls home, about to head out for the day before the sun reaches its peak. It’s only early; the sun has just risen. This is prime time to go out and find some parts; because it’s not too hot, not too cold, and there are rarely any dangerous folk out and about in the ship graveyard. The creatures of the night have gone back in to hiding by this time, too.

She’s eight years old. It’s been four years since she was left here on this planet, although it feels like a lifetime. Partly because of how much she has learned; because of how she feels so much older than just eight.

Many people may lose count of months and years if they were left on a disgusting sand planet like Jakku for this long. But not Rey. Rey counts every single day she’s here. At first, just in her head. Then with little marks drawn discreetly on one of the wooden pillars at Niima that sit beside the cleaning tables. And then, a couple years ago when the old and abandoned AT-AT was found on one of her journeys to the scavenging grounds, the days count moved to a long, stretched-out wall inside where she lives. There are hundreds, nearly thousands, of marks on there, now; but the days still just fade in to one another.

The first thing Rey learned on Jakku was not to trust _anyone_. It took a couple of betrayals before she vowed to herself to always assume that anyone and anything she came across on this planet is out to get her. That’s the way to stay safe. To make sure no one fools you.

Which is why, when Rey hears footsteps and panting approaching her home, her senses immediately become heightened and her pulse begins to race.

She grabs her staff and runs out, keeping low and ready for a battle at any minute.

The person isn’t as close as she had assumed; he’s a few metres away, struggling along the soft sand, panting for breath. It’s not too hot out, but he looks like he hasn’t had a drink in far too long.

Rey holds up her staff. “Stop!” She calls, and the boy’s head flies up to look at her, his eyes wide like he hadn't even been aware there was anyone there.

He squints in the early morning sunlight. Takes in the way her staff is braced for attack and the way she’s standing. Then does as she says and stops.

“What do you want?” Rey asks lowly through clenched teeth.

The boy looks utterly startled and confused. “I—um—I don’t know, I—I’m lost.”

“Well, there’s nothing here. You can keep on going.”

His eyes glance behind her at the AT-AT. When he looks back at her, his mouth opens and closes, like he can’t find words to say. “I—do you have, um—do you have water? I’ve been walking all night—”

“How are you not dead? There are all kinds of creatures on this planet, nocturnal creatures especially, that would kill you in a heartbeat.”

Now he looks even more terrified. “What—there _are_? Like what!?”

“I’m not here to make conversation,” Rey snarls. “You must be armed if you didn’t get killed.”

“Honestly, I swear, I’m—I have nothing! I literally have nothing…,”

“Then how are you still alive?”

“I don’t know!” He holds his hands up defensively, and Rey tenses at that, bracing her staff even more. “I swear, I’m not armed! I just—need water!”

Rey looks him up and down. “You need to leave. This is my home.”

“I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to run in to you…,”

“Then leave.”

The boy stays silent for a moment. He’s still breathing heavily. Rey takes this chance to look at him properly.

He's only young, like her. His lips are dry and chapped. There’s sweat on his brow. His clothes are dirty and sandy, and he looks so tired; so worn-out. For a tiny, fleeting moment, Rey feels sorry for him. She feels a kind of compassion. There’s that tiny bit of her that wonders if he's really as bad as her instinct to distrust people is telling her.

Her guard comes up again soon enough, though.

(But...she still kind of wants to help.

 _Stupid compassion_.)

“Niima outpost is that way,” she jerks her head in the direction of the main town. “You should find water there. Now please; leave.”

He does as she says, and she watches him stumble away. Yeah, she still feels just a little guilty for turning him away. Years ago, that was her; lost in the desert, thirsty and alone and scared. But she has to remind herself that her only responsibility – the only thing she can afford to rely on – is herself.

It doesn’t stop the guilt that hangs sharp in her stomach as she watches until he’s completely gone from sight.

 

 

Rey sees him again later that day when she goes to Niima to clean off the parts she’s found. He’s standing just a few feet away from the cleaning station, looking as though he’s trying hard to make a deal with a reluctant and prickly scavenger.

She ignores him, swallows the guilt that rises up again, and continues in her path.

(Normally, Rey wouldn’t feel anything but relief to have seen someone walk away from her home. But there was something about this boy. He was young, like her. He was alone, like her. And he looked afraid. So very afraid. Rey knows that feeling all too well.)

The main loot from today’s scavenging is such a rare and valuable find. Rey knows it must be worth at least twenty full portions; maybe even more. She’s heard other scavengers at the stalls here whispering about this mysterious piece of machinery before; read manuals where it was described as something only found in the most valuable of ships from the days of the Empire. Only about one in fifty ships were designed with it, and Rey feels as though she’s struck gold.

Here, on Jakku, she may as well have done.

But she knows that as soon as she gets it out in the open for people to see when she goes to clean it, the thugs and crooks will try to steal from her. They would be willing to fight her – or worse – to get this. After all, they're all relying on the same creature as her to give them food in return for their labour.

So Rey keeps it tucked under her arm the whole way to the cleaning tables, and when she gets there, holds on to it so tightly with both hands, never letting her eyes move from it but also keeping herself aware of her surroundings to make sure no one sneaks up on her. She’s pretty sure that people have realised she has such a valuable piece of machinery - it's not small and very hard to hide - so now it’s more important than ever to be on her guard.

But the problem is, when you mix water, cleaning fluid and leftover oil with a tight grip in the small hands of a child, it makes it easier for gravity to take an object straight out of your hands.

Which is exactly what happens.

It slips out of her grasp before she can even blink, and falls to the floor with a clatter and a gasp escaping her lips. In her head, she can already imagine the bad guys running and crowding around her, pushing her away until she lets them get to it.

Her heart races. She’s lost it. She's lost it, and she won't be able to get it back. Those twenty portions are not going to be hers.

Except that _isn’t_ what happens.

Instead, a pair of dirtied white shoes come running towards her and small, dark hands are grabbing the piece and handing it back to her. Rey takes it without a second thought, just so grateful to have it back, and then looks up to find that it’s _that boy_ who just saved her skin.

She even meets his eyes, properly this time, and finds herself realising for the first time just how kind they look. So genuine.

“I—thank you,” she says, mouth dry. “Thank you. I thought—I thought someone would steal it.”

“So did I,” he offers her a small, shy smile, then runs a hand over his dusty hair. “I…heard some of the beings here begin to talk when they saw you had it. They said it was a valuable part, and that…,” his voice fades off and he looks away.

Rey takes a not-so-wild guess. “…That they would hurt me to get it?”

He looks back to her and bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t want to say it in case I…well. In case I scared you.”

Rey tucks the part further in to her lap and holds it tight in her arms. “I’m used to the way the people here talk.”

“Yeah, I…get the feeling there aren’t many trustworthy people here.” And he says it while looking her right in the eyes, almost pointedly. He knows it was her; her that turned him away this morning when he needed water and, probably, a friend. He doesn’t look like he’s blaming her, or anything; but he’s trying to tell her that he recognises her.

“I…can see why you turned me away today,” he eventually says when Rey doesn’t reply. She’s just staring at him, wide-eyed, feeling suddenly shy. “I understand now.”

“Yeah, I’m…sorry about that,” and she’s not sure why she’s apologising – not sure when she even _started_ apologising on this hell planet – but it feels like the right thing to do.

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry. I get it.”

“Did you…find water in the end?” Rey feels so stupid for asking this. What a strange question.

He actually chuckles. “Yeah. I did. Although it came from an animal’s water trough.”

Rey scrunches up her nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah. But water’s water, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

She’s just staring at him. Trying to work him out. Trying to wonder if she should believe the little voice in her head that says she can trust him.

“Do you need help with that?”

Rey shakes her head. “No, thank you. I was actually almost done when I dropped it, so I think I’m going to take it to the trading post now. Not worth any more risk.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks,” she says, standing up with the piece of metal still in her arms, pressed securely against her torso. “For saving my skin.”

“It was no problem.”

Just as Rey is turning away from him, his voice comes up again.

“Hey,” he says, and she turns to face him. “I don’t know your name.”

She takes a breath. Steels her shoulders. And some little part of her trusts him enough for him to know this. “Rey. What’s yours?”

“I’m Finn.”

 

And she didn’t initially intend on letting Finn come back with her to her home.

When she had turned away from him and headed towards the trading post, Rey had planned to just give Finn a few portions of food and some water to keep him going, before heading back home on her own. She couldn’t just leave him empty-handed; he had proved himself not a horrible person, after all.

But then, when she turns back towards her speeder with a satchel filled with twenty two portions and a huge smile on her face, Rey sees Finn under one of the shelters, appearing to be in a heated argument with a trader. He looks desperate and sad and scared. He looks lost, in despair. He looks like he’s feeling everything that Rey feels every morning when she wakes up.

And then, her feet are carrying her over.

“Finn,” she says from a few metres away. Both Finn and the creature he’s talking to turn to her.

He frowns. “Rey?”

“Come on,” she says, jerking her head in the direction of her speeder.

He still looks confused, but doesn’t turn down an opportunity to walk away from this place.

“Where are we going?” He asks, following Rey in her long strides.

Rey searches for a feeling in her gut telling her that this is a bad idea. She searches for an instinct that says he can’t be trusted.

But it’s not there.

“Rey,” he says, finally catching up with her fast pace. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you taking me away from this place, but—where are you taking me?”

Rey stops walking. Turns to him. Meets his eyes, squares her shoulders, and knows in her heart that this is the right thing to do.

And then, she smiles softly. His face seems to soften when she does.

“Home.”

* * *

“Okay, there’s not much to this place, really, so I don’t need to show you around,” Rey sighs as they get back in to the cooler air of her home. She places her staff in the corner by what she uses as a shelf unit, then tucks some hair behind her ear and turns to him. “Over there is where I cook, over there is my old computing system I made a year or so ago – it has some old simulators on there – and that’s where I sleep,” she gestures to her hammock hanging at one end of the room. “You can…sleep on the floor for now. I’ll find you an extra blanket. I know it’s not ideal, but…,”

“No,” he cuts her off, “it’s just fine. Thank you.”

And she has the confidence to glance at him for a moment. She still gets kind of mesmerised by his eyes, because they’re so deep and kind.

Because Rey has never really had any human interaction with someone she can at least _almost_ trust—this is uncharted territory. It’s moments like these that it really hits her how young she really is; how much she still has left to learn about people and other species and _life_. (Even though she’s already learned a lot since living here.)

Rey offers him a smile, then pulls out the portions she got today and places them in her safe container under the little hob she cooks on.

“So…,” Finn says after a moment. Rey doesn’t turn to look at him, even though she kind of wants to. “If you don’t mind my asking…how old are you? I’m eleven.”

“I’m eight.” Rey replies, because if she’s trusting him enough to _live with her_ , she supposes she can trust him enough with her age.

“ _Eight_?”

“Yeah,” she says, “is that a problem?”

“No, no—I just…thought you were older. You seem older. Smart. Wise.”

“Wise?” Rey finds herself smirking as she turns back towards him.

“Yeah. You know; experienced. You scared me off earlier; you were…intimidating.”

“Good,” Rey says flatly, “that’s what I was going for.”

There’s a moment of silence. Finn wanders over to the other side of the room, and his footsteps slow after a second, and Rey knows what he’s looking at.

“What’s this?” He asks.

She barely needs to turn around to see what he’s talking about, but she does anyway. And she tries to tell him with as little emotion in her voice as possible. (Emotions are too _messy_ for the harsh realities of this planet.) “That’s a tally,” she says, “of how many days I’ve been here. In this AT-AT, I mean. I’ve been on this _planet_ much longer.”

Finn turns to her, and his eyes are wide. “You’ve been on this planet _longer_ than the amount of days on this wall?”

Rey clenches her jaw and turns away. “Yes.”

“Whoa,” he breathes, and Rey is kind of expecting some unwanted sympathy or more questions; but instead, he just says, almost to himself, “no wonder you’re so tough.”

Rey finds herself smiling before she can stop it.

* * *

Turns out, Finn is invaluable when it comes to scavenging.

At first, Rey had been reluctant to let him come with her; after all, having another body with her is a lot of extra baggage and responsibility, adding more things to worry about. And not knowing Finn’s abilities made her nervous about it.

But Finn is _more_ than capable of handling himself. He’s strong, agile and a quick thinker. He's smart, and wise, and he makes good, quick decisions. He’s far from a hindrance; he’s an _asset_.

It takes her a while to get used to the flow of working alongside him, but when it clicks, it _clicks._

He helps her reach things she can’t reach; lets her stand on his shoulders when they find something up too high with no way of getting to it alone. He catches her when she slips and almost falls, and she does the same for him. She _trusts_ him. More than she’s ever trusted anyone.

They make a rather good team, for two kids raising themselves on a hellish sand planet.

“So,” Finn says, picking up a piece of insta-bread and turning to look at Rey. They’re sitting outside their AT-AT, sharing a portion for dinner, watching as the sky turns amber. “What’s the best part about living here?”

Rey looks at him. She raises her eyebrows, incredulous. He’s been living with her for a month and he still thinks there’s possibly a _good_ thing about living here?

“What?” He chuckles, and his grin is so infectious.

“Do you really think I have an answer to that?”

“There must be _something_ good.”

Rey shakes her head. Looks away and takes a bite of her food. “Nope. Nothing.”

“Not even the exquisite insta-bread? The way the sand falls in your shoes with every step you take?”

“Are you trying to be funny?” She looks at him again and quirks an eyebrow.

He grins. “Yes. How am I doing?”

She stares for a moment, looking between each of his eyes. Then her lips break out in to a smirk, then a smile, and then she’s giggling and looking away. “You’re doing well.”

“Good,” he says, and she doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling. “Always nice to make you smile.”

Rey looks up at him from under her eyelashes. She doesn’t remember ever smiling this much in her whole life. But, since Finn came around, there has been something to smile about every day. He’s kind and selfless and funny. He takes care of her; real, proper care. And she likes to think that she takes care of him, too.

“You know what I do like about being here?” Rey asks.

“ _Is_ there something?”

She hesitantly leans her head on his shoulder. These kinds of affectionate touches are still a little alien to her, but she's getting used to it, and finding herself _wanting_ to be close to him. “You.” She says.

Finn hums a little laugh and rests his head on top of hers, and everything inside of her feels warm for that moment of closeness. “Ditto.”

* * *

Finn knows that Rey has to stay here on this planet. He knows – or, at least, can assume – that some part of her _wants_ to as well as feels she has to. He doesn’t fully understand it; partly because she hasn’t told him the exact reason, but mainly because why would _anyone_ want to stay on this planet? The only reason he’s staying is for Rey—he can’t leave her, not now, not after all they’ve been through and what they've found in each other. Rey may be young but she would still argue that she can do just fine on her own; even though she knows that both of them know better than that. Rey never really says it, but she’s happier now he’s here; now they’ve found each other.

It takes her a few months to finally tell him why she has to stay. At first, when they met, he asked her often. But soon her replies became shorter and more frustrated and Finn knew all that was going to happen was she was going to become more guarded the more he asked. So, eventually, he only sort of dropped little hints to remind her that he _still_ didn’t know, and would still like to know.

It’s not that she has to tell him, or that Finn feels entitled to that secret. It’s just…well, Finn wants Rey to know she can trust him and, although she trusts him up to a point, it seems the reason for staying here is something vulnerable that she’s not ready to share yet. Which is okay. Finn can wait. He has a lot of time to wait, here on this planet. Because as long as Rey is here, he’s not going anywhere.

Rey has nightmares. A lot of nightmares. Almost every night, Finn will wake up to the sound of Rey weeping softly in her sleep or thrashing around in her hammock. Finn has his own hammock, now, and he always gets up straight away to wake and comfort her.

Sometimes, Rey will ask him to stay. It’s usually times when she can’t stop shaking and she’s so cold and terrified that she’ll whisper, “will you stay?” and every time, without fail, Finn says yes.

Other times, she’ll just thank him for waking her up and roll over to try and sleep again. That’s when he knows she just wants to be alone, or at least she doesn’t want to let him in, so he doesn’t push her. But he stays awake until he hears her not crying anymore and her breathing even out.

One night, Rey has a particularly bad nightmare. She’s talking in her sleep, this time, which has never happened before.

_“No! Come back! Come back! Please don’t leave me!”_

Finn rushes out of his hammock so fast he almost falls face-first to the floor. He kneels down beside her and strokes his hand over her arm, whispering her name. “Rey,” he says, “Rey, it’s me, wake up,”

She wakes with a start and a gasp, and her eyes are wide and bloodshot, cheeks soaked with tears.

Finn feels his heart ache inside his chest at the sight of her. She looks completely terrified and utterly, unbelievably heartbroken; as if whatever it is she’s dreamt about has truly just happened before her eyes, in this very moment.

“Hey, shh, I've got you, I’m here,” Finn runs his hand up and down her arm and reaches out to push away some sweat-dampened hair from her forehead.

“Finn,” Rey sobs. She looks so small. So terrified. Finn wants to take it all away.

“Shh, it’s okay, it was just a dream.”

But Rey shakes her head. She doesn’t say anything, to his surprise; just reaches out for him with trembling hands and pulls him in. “I’m c-cold, Finn,” she rasps, “will—will you stay?”

Finn gets up before she even finishes her question, beginning to carefully climb in beside her. “Of course,” he says softly. “Of course I’ll stay.”

Rey shuffles closer to him immediately and presses her head in to his chest, still softly sobbing. Finn doesn’t know how to take the pain away, but he knows that he can be here for her, that he can comfort her and remind her that she’s not alone; that she never will be again.

“Shh,” Finn soothes, stroking a hand over her matted hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep again,” Rey says, “not ever. I’m tired of these bad dreams.”

“I know,” he coos, “I know, Rey.”

And after a moment, Finn follows an urge to lean down and kiss the top of her head. He hesitates for a second, but then does it, and Rey wraps her arm around him in response.

“I’ll stay awake with you.” He whispers in to her hair.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“...Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend. I always...I always wanted a best friend.”

Finn feels a huge wave of emotion suddenly welling up inside him; so much so that he thinks he might cry. He smiles softly to himself, warmth growing in his heart at her words because, yeah, he’s pretty sure she’s his best friend, too.

“You’re mine too,” he whispers eventually, through threatening tears. Never did he think he would end up finding Rey when he fell from the sky and landed on this planet. But he did – they found each other – and Finn doesn’t know if there are Gods out there or if there is such a thing as fate, but with Rey in his life, he no longer thinks it’s that unlikely.

Moments of comfortable silence pass, with Finn absently running his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair, hoping it’s some kind of comfort; a reminder that he’s here. Rey isn’t sobbing anymore. He can feel that her eyes are still open because every time she blinks, her eyelashes brush against his chest.

And, after a while, she takes in a hesitant breath. Maybe she thinks he’s fallen asleep, by now, so maybe that’s why she has the courage to tell him.

Her voice is a tiny little whisper. “I’m waiting for my family.”

“What?”

“My family,” Rey pulls back to look him in the eyes. Her own are glassy, forming fresh tears that are ready to fall. “That’s why I have to stay here. I’m waiting for my family to come back for me.”

Finn’s heart actually _hurts_. It all makes sense now. Why she feels she has to stay, as well as _wanting_ to stay, and why she didn’t want to tell him the reason before now. He understands, now. He understands that it’s a vulnerable thing, and Finn feels honored that she now trusts him enough to finally tell him.

“Someone left me here when I was four,” she whispers, still looking him in the eyes. Her forehead is wrinkled. Finn finds a tear falling down his own cheek as one falls down hers. “I don’t know if it was my family who left me, but—but I’ve always believed they would come back for me. That my family would find me and rescue me. I've had to believe it.”

Finn doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t know how to make this better, or how to make her dream of finding her family – or her family finding her – come true. Instead, he just reaches out to brush away the tear. It seems like the right thing to do.

“Sometimes,” she begins, and her voice cracks. “I start to wonder if they ever will.”

That makes Finn’s heart break entirely; he can almost literally feel her pain, deep inside his own chest. It rips at his core and threatens to swallow him whole. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it is for Rey.

 _Rey_ , who is so young, not much younger than him; Rey who is so kind and brave and doesn’t seem to be scared of anything when she’s around other people. Rey, who is Finn’s best friend, who literally saved Finn’s life. Rey, who deserves so much better.

They both deserve so much better.

He’s at a loss for words, really. So instead of speaking, he wipes away the rest of her tears, gently pecks her forehead, and pulls her back in to his chest, holding her tight. She wraps an arm around him and pushes her face in to his chest. Maybe just being here with her will make this better.

Yeah. Maybe.

* * *

It’s days like these that they remember how young they really are. That they’re just kids, lost and scared on this sandy, horrible planet. Most of the time, they're able to act like they know what they’re doing, like they know who they are, and like they’re not scared of anything or anyone. And most of the time, they almost start to believe it.

But right now, with Rey’s leg bleeding, dripping red down her calf, a big gash on her head and Finn’s wrist hurting like he’s never felt before, they’re both scared and suddenly feeling like children who need someone to look after them. Someone older, wiser, _bigger_. Finn and Rey are only small. And right now they feel smaller than ever.

Finn is driving their speeder, moving it through the desert as fast as he can, and he can feel Rey clinging on to him from behind, holding on for dear life with her arms around his waist. She’s got her face pressed in to the back of his shirt and if Finn concentrates on it, he can feel her blood seeping through to his skin. His heart is racing out of his chest. He’s in pain and it throbs even more every time he turns the speeder, but right now, all he can think about is the fact that Rey is in pain; that he has to do all he can to make it better.

He knows that Rey can handle herself out there when they're working. But there’s a part of him that feels like this is his fault; like he should have protected her. He’s the older one. He should’ve been more careful; looked out for her as she climbed up the belly of that ship. He should have seen the loose footing. Should have been better and quicker at catching her when she fell, rather than falling straight to the ground with her.

Finally, after what seems like hours, they get back to their home, and Finn carries Rey back inside even though she tries to tell him she’s fine. (She’s not fine; she’s got blood still dripping down her leg and her face, and every time she moves, she cries out in pain).

“Okay,” Finn says, almost to himself. He puts Rey down on the blanket strewn over the floor and then turns to hastily shut the hatch of the AT-AT. When he turns back to her, she’s got tears on her cheeks and she looks so scared and in pain that he almost forgets how much his wrist is throbbing.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Finn hurries over to her but then realises he should probably grab things to help stop the bleeding before it becomes even more serious. Quickly, he reaches in to the cupboard and pulls out some cleaning alcohol, fabric dressings and some old rags they sometimes use as support bandages for sore muscles. “Okay, I’ve got you, Rey, it’s okay.” He’s trying his best to comfort her, even though his heart is racing so hard it hurts and his hands are trembling and he’s _so, so scared._

“Finn, it hurts,” she rasps, and she sounds so small.

“It’s okay, Rey, it’s okay,” he hurries to press a strip of fabric to the wound on her leg. Once he's got the bleeding as under control as possible, he's quick to pour some cleaning alcohol on to another cloth. “Alright, this is going to hurt, but it’s okay, it’s going to help in the long run.”

“It’s okay, Finn—” her voice is weak.

“Here, hold my hand, and squeeze it as tight as you need to.”

“I trust you,”

“I’m sorry,” he looks her in the eyes, “I have to do this, though, I—”

Rey just nods, squeezes her eyes shut, and holds his hand tightly. Gently, Finn lifts her injured leg on to his lap and twists it a little so he can get to the inside of her calf.

“Alright, three, two, one…” and Rey gasps and cries out, her hand squeezing his so hard that he feels he's about to lose feeling at any moment. (It’s okay, though. That’s what it’s there for.)

Once he’s cleaned the wound sufficiently, he pulls the cloth away and reshapes it in his hand so it’s the right size for the next wound. “Alright, now I just need to clean the cut above your eye, are you ready?”

Rey nods. “Ready.”

It breaks Finn’s heart to hear her yelp and cry like she does. He keeps reminding himself that it’s for the best, that he’s helping her, that he’s doing all he can.

“Alright, it’s done,” he says, relief in his voice, and Rey slowly opens her eyes. Tears fall down on to her cheeks. Finn searches his brain for the right thing to do; for what he needs to do next. He’s only a kid. He’s _only a kid._ How is he possibly going to make this right?

“I’m going to put a bandage on you now, okay? The—the bleeding has mostly stopped, so you’re okay, we just need to, um—get some water in you. Rehydrate.” He sounds so sure of what he’s saying, even though he's not. That’s good. Rey looks calmer, which means he’s making her calmer, and that’s _good_.

“Thank you, Finn,” she says, and her breathing is fast and deep. Finn worries that she may go in to shock.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he grabs some clean bandages and begins to gently wrap them around the wound on her leg. She whimpers in pain, and Finn feels like crying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’ll be over soon, I promise. Hold on to my arm, if you want,”

She does. She grabs the top of his arm like it’s a lifeline. It grounds Finn; keeps him present, and reminds him that she’s going to be okay. _She has to be okay._

Once Rey’s leg is all bandaged up and the wound on her head is clean, bleeding controlled, Finn lets himself breathe properly for the first time in too long. But then he begins to think about Rey falling off that wall, remembering the way he’d rushed to catch her, but not been fast enough. The way she’d shouted in pain and sobbed the whole way back to their home, arms trembling as they held on tight to him.

Finn feels suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop tears from spilling over the edges of his eyes and on to his cheeks.

“Finn,” Rey whispers, reaching out for him. “Finn.”

She doesn’t have to say anything else. There isn’t anything else she _can_ say. Finn just nods, leaning in to wrap his arms around her as carefully as he can. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He just shakes his head. He feels responsible. Or maybe he just feels young, scared, and very afraid of stepping out of that door ever again. She’s only ten, and he’s only thirteen. This world, this life they live, is so scary.

“Your wrist,” she says in to his shoulder. “Is it okay? Do you need me to bandage it for you?”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Rey says it like she already knew what he was going to say. “Let me help you.”

Finn pulls away, an urge to kiss her forehead suddenly very strong. He doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to hurt her. Instead, he tentatively reaches out to grab the last of the bandages, and hands them to Rey.

“I’ll try not to hurt you, okay?”

“I know.” He gives her his wrist and she holds it so gently and carefully as she wraps the bandages around it and the base of his hand. It supports the joint enough for it to stop hurting every time he thinks about moving, but the pain doesn’t entirely go away.

Rey finishes up the bandage and leans down to place a kiss on top of it. So naturally, so easily, as if she’s done it a million times before. It makes Finn’s heart soar and a small smile twitch at his lips for the first time all day.

After they’ve had some water and dipped in to some of their emergency food rations, the pair curl up in Rey’s hammock, facing each other with Finn’s arms around her, making her feel safe and warm.

“Sometimes I feel too young to deal with all of this,” Rey whispers in to the darkness.

“You read my mind,” he says, stroking his thumb over the fabric of her shirt. “I do, too.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finn can hear her breathing so loudly and clearly, and it makes him feel at peace. She’s here, she’s alive, and, for now at least, they’re both safe. 

“You saved my life today,” Rey whispers.

“I didn’t.”

“You did. I couldn’t have made it back without you, or bandaged myself up. I would have bled out.”

Finn holds her tighter. “I’d never let that happen.”

“Thank you.”

He kisses the top of her head, only realising that he did once he's pulled away. She nuzzles closer in to him.

“Finn,” she says, and her voice is careful and tentative.

“Mm?”

“You can leave, you know,” she’s trying to hold back tears, he can tell. “You don’t have to stay here. You can leave, and start a _life_ – a real life, Finn – away from this horrible place. I want that for you; I want you to be happy and safe. I want you to have a life.”

Finn pulls back a little so he can look her in the eyes. He’s frowning so deeply there’s a big crease between his brows. “I will never, _ever_ leave you.”

“But you _can_ ,” she takes a hold of his hand. “You can leave. This is me giving you permission. You don’t have to stay for me—you can have a life, Finn! A life—”

“I have a life,” he cuts her off. “I have a life, Rey. It’s you. Being here with you. Being _anywhere_ with you.”

“Finn, you’re still so young,” her hand moves from his so she can cup his cheek in her hand, and her eyes are so filled with tears. “You’re still so young. You deserve better than this planet. Better than this life here, with me.”

“Rey,” Finn reaches out to hold her cheek in return. “I am never going anywhere. You will never be alone again, Rey. I don’t care where I am, or what my days are filled with. All I care about is _you_.”

Rey blinks. The tears finally spill over, and she brings a hand up to wipe them away, but he beats her to it. She looks between each of his eyes, trying to make sure he’s telling the truth.

He’s never been more truthful in his entire life.

Rey sniffs. A small smile breaks out on her face, and she kisses him then; just a tiny, fast peck on his lips – nothing less, nothing more – and begins to properly cry as she buries her head in to his chest. Finn feels his heart swell with emotion – she just _kissed_ him; it’s going to take a while for the smile on his face to disappear – and he holds her even tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he finds himself saying. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

They may be frightened children in the middle of the desert, not knowing how long they're going to be here or even how long they're going to live, but they have each other. And maybe that's all either of them have ever wanted. To not be alone anymore.

Rey sobs, and Finn sobs, too.

* * *

Rey knows that Finn loves her when he doesn’t let her go out scavenging for another two weeks after she got so badly injured.

She insists that she’s fine, even through the agonizing pain in her calf and the way her head throbs when she moves around too much. But Finn knows she’s lying, knows she’s only saying it so she can try to help him out. He leaves her in the hammock each morning with water beside her and a kiss pressed on her forehead to last her all day. He makes her promise to keep the hatch locked at all times, and to never go outside for anything until he’s back.

He thinks the metal she fell on to severed one of her muscles. She can hardly walk; cries out in pain every time she tries. But Finn has a sprained wrist, and scavenging out on his own with only one good hand must be such hard work; Rey feels awful. Still, he gets home every night and without fail offers her a warm smile even though the day may have been tough. He reapplies her dressings and then gets to cooking their food for the day.

Yeah. Rey is pretty sure by now that he loves her.

(And she loves him, too. Obviously.)

“Finn, you don’t have to do that,” Rey climbs out of the hammock and hobbles over to him where he’s kneeling at the stove. “You’ve cooked every night since I got injured. You’ve been out all day; let me help you.”

“Rey, you can help me by resting your leg and keeping hydrated.”

She sighs. “Come on, let me do something besides lay down. I feel so useless. I hate leaving you to do everything.”

Finn turns to her and smiles gently. “Rey, honey,” and that alone makes Rey’s heart swell with love, because lately he’s taken to calling her by affectionate nicknames and it is one of the best things he’s ever done. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I promise. Go lay down, and then we can eat together.”

Sighing again, Rey reluctantly turns around and gets back in to her hammock. She watches as Finn finishes cooking and then walks over to sit on the floor beside her hammock, handing her a plate with the usual tiny portion; just enough to keep them alive.

Rey exhales loudly, taking a bite of insta-bread.

“You okay?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, I just…,” she shakes her head, not really sure how to articulate how she’s feeling. “I’m just tired.”

“You can sleep, if you want.”

“No, I mean I’m…tired of _this_.”

“Insta-bread?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs one shoulder, “insta-bread. Barely enough food to survive. Getting injured. Being afraid. I’m tired of _everything_ , Finn. Sometimes I just…want it all to stop. _I_ want to stop.”

Finn looks up at her, his brow furrowed. “I know,” he says softly. “I know, Rey. I know.”

Rey feels like crying. “And I don’t know—I don’t know what I want.”

Finn licks his plate clean and then places it beside him on the floor, turning to face her properly. There’s a long few minutes of silence as Rey finishes off her meal. Once she’s done, Finn reaches out to take her hands.

He opens his mouth but then closes it again, as if he wants to say something but isn’t sure if it’s the right thing. Rey squeezes his hands, letting him know that whatever he wants to say, it’s okay for him to say it.

“Do you…want to stay here?” He asks, so tentatively, barely looking at her.

And he seems surprised when her answer is, for the first time ever, “I don’t know.”

Finn pauses for a moment. “Okay, well…whatever you decide, I’m here.”

She smiles softly, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “Thank you.”

And they just sit there for a few minutes, just staring at each other, holding hands and looking in to each others’ eyes as if they’re all that matters in the whole galaxy. Well, Rey supposes, they kind of are.

“Finn,” Rey says, startling him slightly in the silence.

“Yeah?”

She doesn’t say anything, at first. Her eyes flicker down to look at his lips, then back up to his eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just…thank you.”

He reaches up to brush some hair back from her face, careful to avoid the cut above her eyebrow. “Get some rest,” he says, and his voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper. “I’ll clean up.”

Rey leans forward to wrap her arms around him, holding him in as tight as she can in the slightly awkward position. He buries his face in her neck, and she can feel him smile.

* * *

Her wounds heal, in time, but even now, three years later, there are still scars. Finn’s wrist still aches every now and again, too. He thinks he damaged the ligaments; he heard that sometimes, those kinds of injuries might always remain painful.

Since that one night where she was shaken and tired and afraid, Rey hasn’t mentioned anything else about maybe leaving Jakku. Finn knows her so well that he hasn’t asked, because he knows not to bring up that subject unless she first brings it up herself. She loves him for that.

Sometimes, at night, when neither of them can sleep, they make up little games to play to pass the time. Their current favourite is the game where one of them will write words on the others’ skin with their fingertips, and they’ll have to guess what it says.

One night, they’re lying opposite each other in their new, larger hammock that fits them both so much more comfortably than the old one. They’re facing each other, and Rey is writing words on his arm as he watches her face, that soft look in his eyes that he always seems to get when he looks at her.

She’s writing words like, “star” and “planet”; the only things her sleepy brain can really come up with. Finn always guesses right.

Finn writes things like “hope” and “strength.”

As he’s writing invisible words on her skin, she watches his face with fondness, smiling at the gentle look in his eyes. He always remains so… _soft_. Even in the face of the hardship they have to face every day, he stays gentle, kind, hopeful. Over the years, Rey has hardened a lot. She doesn’t really express emotion, or talk to anyone more than she has to. The only person she lets her guard down around is Finn, of course.

But Finn is still so open and brave. He’s braver than her, so much braver. He would disagree, but it's what Rey believes. He's so brave. She adores him for it.

Rey had been so focused on his face that she completely misses the word he writes on her.

He smirks. “Are you daydreaming?”

“I think, technically, it’d be called ‘night-dreaming’.”

He chuckles, and Rey feels his breath on her lips. “I suppose so.”

“Finn?”

“Mm?” His hand comes out to gently brush some hair from her face, and then he’s smoothing his fingers down her cheek, almost absently.

“Can I…,” Rey suddenly finds herself a little breathless. Her words come out weak and uncertain, fading off before she can finish her sentence.

“What is it, Rey?” He asks gently.

“Can I…can I kiss you?”

Yeah, she kissed him before, years ago; in the darkness of the night, just a tiny peck on his lips that barely even lasted a second. But now, now that she feels _ready_ , she wants to kiss him _properly_. Wants to relish in the feel of his lips against hers, moving softly, tasting his lips and feeling his warmth.

His breath catches in his throat. Eyes light up. “Yes.” He breathes.

Tentatively, Rey smiles, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. And then, slowly, she leans in, parting her lips, gently catching his top one between them.

Finn’s hand comes up to cradle the back of her head. Their lips stay together for a few long, lovely moments. Rey’s heart has never felt more full.

As they pull away, Finn’s lips break in to a smile.

“I’ve been—I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admits, “but I wasn’t sure if you were ready.”

Rey leans in. Kisses him again. “I’m ready, now.”

* * *

One day, when Rey goes to Niima to get some parts exchanged while Finn goes out to scavenge on his own, he doesn’t come home when he said he would. She’s been marking out the hours on the sand with lines made by her staff and marked by the movement of the sun. He’s three hours late, and it’s going to get dark soon.

She goes inside and shuts the hatch but doesn’t lock it, in case he gets home and can’t get in.

Another hour passes. It’s dark out, now.

Rey sits up in their hammock, her knees tucked up at her chest with her arms wrapped around them. She constantly keeps her eyes on the hatch and her ears trained to try and hear anyone approaching. She knows it’s time to lock the hatch. She knows that, whatever may have happened, Finn would want her to lock it; to keep herself safe. But she just can’t bring herself to do it. Even though her mind is telling her that it’s too late; that something bad has already happened; that he’s _gone_. There are all kinds of creatures out there, and although Finn is capable and knows how to fight, it doesn’t mean he’d win. Some are too big; too powerful.

Rey feels tears sting at her eyes. If something has happened…if he’s out there hurting, dying, maybe even already dead—Rey doesn’t know what she’ll do. They’ve been together so long, living this life for so long. Finn is her best friend. More than that, even. He's the only person she will ever want to be around every hour of every day. Even now, they’ve only been separate for nine hours and Rey already feels an aching need inside of her to see him. What if she can never see him again? What if he needs her right now, but she’s not there for him?

She’s crying before she realises it. Fat, salty tears are rolling down her cheeks and she gasps for air, letting out little sobbing noises; trying not to be too loud in case any of the creatures hear her and decide to make her their next target.

Desperately, she wipes at her wet cheeks and stares at the hatch for a moment longer.

Just as she’s about to get up and go searching for him herself – dangerous or not, Rey is _not_ just about to give up on Finn, just because of what they say about being out at night – she hears…something. A voice, maybe? Just a whisper, or a feeling?

Rey isn’t entirely sure what it is, at first. Her brow furrows as she tries to focus on it. As it becomes clearer, she almost startles as she recognizes it as _Finn_. It’s his voice. Somehow, it’s him; as clear as day, in her head, as if he’s right there next to her, holding her in his arms. She doesn’t know how it's possible – something in her brain remembers the whispers she heard as a child of the mysterious Force that some people possess, tying them to the rest of the galaxy; but she never really believed in it – but she knows, she just _knows_ , that it’s really him. It’s not just her brain making this up to try and keep her from breaking completely.

 _Rey?_ She can hear him so clearly. As clear as anything. It's real. He's real.

“Finn? Yes, Finn, it’s me, I can—I can hear you!” She speaks aloud at first, but all that comes through is her name again, and he’s still searching for her. Taking a deep breath, Rey closes her eyes and tries to focus her mind; focus on the image of Finn’s beautiful face, the sound of his voice, the way his arms feel around her; so familiar and lovely. And then she reaches out and speaks in her mind, letting him know that it’s her, and that she can _hear_ him. Truly.

 _Rey, I’m okay,_ he says, _I’m okay. I can feel you worrying, but I’m okay, darling, I promise._

 _Where are you_? She asks, and a sob escapes her lips, echoing loudly in the empty space of their AT-AT. _Finn, I was so worried—where are you?_

_It got dark sooner than I expected. I had to stay in the Destroyer I was in; I’m gonna stay here overnight._

Out loud, Rey breathes a huge sigh of relief. More tears begin to fall. _I miss you,_ she whispers through this invisible connection they’ve somehow discovered.

_I know, I miss you too, I—I don’t know how long I can keep speaking to you this way, but I just need you to know I’m okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Sleep easy, knowing I’m alright, and be safe._

_I will,_ she promises, _I will. You, too._

_My darling Rey. I’ll see you soon._

_I’ll see you soon._

_Goodnight, love._

_Goodnight, Finn._

And then, in an instant, his voice has gone. But she can still _feel_ him; she still knows he’s alive and that he’s safe.

And she doesn’t really sleep. But she can breathe, knowing he’s okay; she can be at peace and look forward to seeing him in the morning.

And that’s good enough for now.

 

Hours pass. Hours of drifting in and out of light sleep, but at least it’s _some_ sleep.

Rey rises before sunrise. She waits by the hatch, waiting to hear him coming as soon as it’s light enough.

And instead of seeing him or hearing him, when he arrives, she _feels_ him. It’s not just a guess or an instinct, but she actually knows, without a single doubt, that he’s there.

As fast as she can, Rey unlatches the hatch and climbs out on to the sand, turning around to see him there, walking carefully along just a hundred feet away. She grins, quickly closing the door behind her and then taking off, running so fast towards him. He runs to her, and they meet in the middle, all smiles and teary eyes as they cling on to each other.

“Finn!” Rey says, and it’s halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I missed you so much,” she whispers in to his neck, “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m right here,” he puts his hand on the back of her head and smoothes his thumb over her hair.

Rey sighs, holding on tighter to him. “You must be so thirsty. Come on; let’s get some water in you.”

Nodding, he pulls away but before walking back to their home, he cups her face in his hands and looks her all over, a smile twitching at his lips.

Rey smiles up at him, reaching up to brush some sand off his cheeks. He leans in and captures her lips with his; just once, so softly. When he pulls away, Rey feels like she could cry. She loves him so much.

She gives him an entire bottle of water and he drinks it as quick as he can. Rey watches him with a smile. She hasn’t seen him in almost twenty-four hours, and she’s starting to think she’s never going to let him out of her sight again.

Rey places the bottle down in the to-be-refilled pile. Before she can turn back to him, she hears footsteps behind her and then a pair of warm, familiar arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

Rey sighs, closing her eyes and leaning in to him, placing her hands over his. “I don’t care how efficient the plan might be,” she says, voice so soft and small, “we are never, ever doing anything apart again.”

He chuckles. Rey feels his breath on her neck. “You mean we’re gonna spend every single second of every day together?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

He presses a kiss to the back of her neck. “There’s nothing I would love more.”

She turns around in his arms, careful not to move him further away as she moves. Her arms wrap around his neck and she leans in to kiss him, slowly moving her lips against his, letting her hands find their way up over his hair. She puts every ounce of love in to this kiss. Every ounce of how much she missed him, how much she loves him; how much she _needs_ him.

“Oh, Finn,” Rey says, pulling away just long enough to whisper before leaning in to kiss him again. They kiss every day, of course. They have done for a long time. But this kiss is…filled with _need_. Rey thought she lost him, last night, and after that she has just been reminded of how much she adores and desires him. She loves him with every piece of her heart, and would run to the ends of the galaxy to be with him.

“I love you,” she finds herself whispering against his lips, tilting her head in the other direction before meeting his mouth again.

Finn’s hands press against the small of her back. “I love you too,” he breathes, “so very much.”

“You need to know,” he says, minutes later when they've parted for a moment and their cheeks are warm and they’re slightly out of breath, “that I will never leave you. I’m never going to let anything kill me, because I plan on living a long life—a long life with _you_.”

Rey smiles, cupping the back of his neck in both her hands. She presses their foreheads together and closes her eyes, reveling in his warmth, feeling tears slowly roll down her cheeks.

And to think, if she hadn’t let Finn come home with her that day – if she hadn’t taken pity on him and let him in to her life, seeing in him what she always saw in herself – then they wouldn’t be here right now. Rey would still be alone. She wouldn’t have anyone to fight for; anyone to hold her at night and kiss her and show her the love she always dreamed of.

Or, maybe, they would have found another way to each other.

“You know,” she whispers, thinking out loud, “I think that, maybe, now I believe in fate.”

He smiles, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Mhmm. I think we would have found our way to each other no matter what.”

“You know, I think I’d have to agree.”

* * *

“They’re never coming back, are they?” Rey asks one night when they’re both wide awake, Finn curled around her from behind, his arm safely holding her to him. She asks like she already knows the answer; like it’s barely even a question, and more of a statement.

“They might,” Finn places his hand over hers and smoothes his thumb across her skin. “Don’t lose hope, Rey. That’s not who you are.”

She doesn’t say anything else at first. Just carefully rolls over to face him, shuffling a little to get comfortable. He lifts their joined hands and kisses her fingertips, waiting so patiently, waiting to listen to whatever she has to say.

After a few minutes, Rey meets his eyes and shrugs one shoulder. “The thing is…I don’t even know if I want them to come back. If I _need_ them to.” And she can barely believe she’s saying it, let alone meaning it.

“What do you mean?” He’s always so keen to truly understand.

“I just…don’t know if I want them.”

“You’ve always wanted them,” he says softly, “that’s why you stay here. Don’t lose hope just because things look dark, darling…,”

“But Finn, I…I’ve been waiting all my life for a family to come back for me. I’ve been waiting here, fighting through every day, for them. And now I’m starting to realise…maybe they won’t come back. But also that maybe…maybe I don’t _mind_ that. Maybe I don’t need them anymore…or even want them.

There’s a gentle crease between his brow, and Rey wants to kiss it away. “Are you sure about this?” He looks in to her eyes, so purely and seriously.

“I know I’ve always said I’m waiting for my family,” her voice is so soft and quiet. She reaches out and brushes the backs of her fingers down his face, caressing his jaw and then his cheekbone and the back of his neck. “But Finn, you are my family now. You’re the only family I need. Maybe…maybe you always have been.”

Something passes over Finn’s face. It feels like Rey can feel the way his heart swells. “You’re my family, too, Rey.”

She smiles. “I love you, Finn,” she whispers, and there are tears in her eyes now. “You’re all I could ever want. All this time, you’ve been here, and I didn’t realise that it was you I was waiting for.”

“I love you,” he reaches out to cup her face, then leans in to place a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re my life.”

“And you’re mine,” Rey holds his wrist, pressing their foreheads together. “You are my home,” she breathes, “and that’s why…I think I’m ready to leave this place. To…start a life, a _real_ life, somewhere else; somewhere far away.”

“What—are you sure?” Finn looks utterly shocked by her words, because he knows how important staying here has always been for her. He knows _her_ – he knows her so well – and Rey can’t imagine any future she wants being anything other than _Finn_.

Nodding, Rey turns her head to lightly kiss the palm of his hand. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

They kiss, all breath and lips and warmth, and Rey gently tugs at his shirt, and the rest of the night is spent skin-to-skin, contentment and love bursting at the seams.

* * *

It’s a year later when they finally manage to organise to be passengers on a transport to the Outer Rim. There’s a small planet out there where they’re going to set up camp until they can find jobs and a place to live for real. They’ve managed to survive in an old AT-AT for twelve years; it’s not exactly going to be a challenge sleeping in a shelter under the stars, surrounded by green abundant life and movement.

“You know,” Rey says, hauling her bag up from their speeder and on to her shoulder. “I’m going to miss this lil girl. She’s been so loyal to us.” Rey pats the body of the speeder, almost affectionately.

“Me, too.”

“ _But_ , I’m ready to see all the greenery and plants and start my own flower garden.”

Finn grins at her, walking forward to take a hold of her hand. “I can’t wait.”

Rey sighs, looking back at their trusty transport of all these years for one last time. “On to the next adventure, I guess.”

He squeezes her hand. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

She nods. “I’m sure.”

They board the ship, giving Jakku one last look before they turn away. Rey searches for sadness as they fly away, leaving this planet behind. This planet filled with so many memories, so much heartache. This planet where Finn and Rey first met; where Rey found a new hope in him, in the boy who stumbled past her home, and she turned him away at first.

She giggles to herself now, as they take their seats beside the lookout ports on the ship. Finn turns to her and smiles.

“What?” He asks, squeezing her hand.

“I was just thinking about how we met,” she leans her head on his shoulder.

“I'll never forget it. I was pretty scared of that staff.”

She laughs. “That was the point, love.”

 

The first time it rains on their new planet, just a day after arriving and setting up their temporary shelter, Rey runs outside and begins to cry.

She laughs at the same time, the moonlight dancing off her face, creating highlights and shadows on her skin. Like a child, she dances around, jumping up and down and laughing so joyfully as a mixture of rain and tears fall down her cheeks.

Finn stands still for a moment, just watching her. His heart swells. She looks so happy and joyful and _free_ , like all her dreams have come true. Maybe they have.

“Finn,” she laughs his name, “it’s rain! Water falling from the _sky_ …can you hear it on the leaves? On the damp ground? And it’s soaking in to my clothes…,”

Finn chuckles, watching as she holds her hands up to the sky to catch raindrops, bringing her palms down to lick the water away.

“I feel it, love.”

“I can’t believe how amazing this is, it’s…it’s better than I ever thought it would be!”

Finn is kind of lost for words, because there is no way of expressing how he feels right now. How it feels to see Rey so happy, so carefree.

“Finn!” She runs over to him and takes both of his hands, pulling him out in to the little clearing she’s been dancing in.

He grins at her, reaching out to brush some soaking wet tendrils of hair from her face. She’s still crying, but the smile on her face is bright enough to outshine the moons that hang above this planet.

Grinning in return, Rey throws herself at him; wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing against his collar bone. Finn holds her, laughing when he feels her bounce up and down a little on the spot. He presses a kiss to her very wet hair.

“When we find our house, and we’ve settled in, and you’ve started your medic training, and we know more about this weird Force thing…I want to start a flower garden that will just _thrive_ on this rain, just like we are.”

He smiles. “I love that idea.”

There’s a moment of silence as they just stand there, holding each other in the rain, not saying anything. This moment, right here, is perfect.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” she says a while later against his skin, her voice suddenly much quieter. She sniffs. “This is…this is _everything_.”

He holds her even tighter. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> 11,000 words of fluff and angst tbh??  
> i really hope you enjoyed this fic! i've been working on it over quite a long period of time and i really hope it's a good read <3 if you can, please do leave a comment to let me know your thoughts! if not, thank you for reading <3


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